


yours to keep

by bitterheart



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25528825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterheart/pseuds/bitterheart
Summary: What's a bit of casual kissing between friends anyway?
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 144





	yours to keep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acchikocchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acchikocchi/gifts).



The grandfather clock in the library has just finished chiming midnight when Sylvain has a life-altering revelation. 

It's not the kind of revelation suited to a library and certainly nothing he would commit to paper, especially when he's so bad at committing to anything at all. The worst thing he can do is say it aloud and that's probably why it sits in his throat of all places, like it's daring his voice to speak it into existence on his next exhale. He chokes on it there, a strangled little noise as he attempts, for once, not to fuck things up the moment he realises it matters to him.

Pressed between a bookshelf and Sylvain's body, Felix makes a soft noise of confusion. It's soon followed by another one that sounds distinctly irritated, and that's when Sylvain realises that they've stopped kissing. 

He sighs, stroking his thumb along Felix's lower lip, pink and kiss-bruised. Felix matches it with a sigh of his own, his eyes slowly sharpening as the daze they've found themselves caught in slowly recedes. 

"I have training early tomorrow morning," Felix says, like he doesn't go to the training yard at the same ungodly hour every morning. He doesn't say it regretfully, like he'd rather stay right here, but he doesn't make any move to get out from where Sylvain has him pressed up against the bookshelf either. 

"Before you go," Sylvain murmurs, fingers gentle against Felix's jaw to pull him back in for one last kiss, chaste and close-mouthed this time. He feels himself torn apart and remade with the way Felix smiles against his mouth. When Sylvain pulls back, he's smiling too. "There you go. 'Night, Felix."

Sylvain could say that he has no idea when he started kissing Felix for fun, but it would make him a filthy liar. Instead, he'll say this: it really didn't mean anything to him when it started. The first time he ever kissed Felix, it was in front of Dimitri and Ingrid and it was done specifically to offend their sensibilities. He'd never expected Felix to play along, especially not so well, and it became a joke from there. For the longest time, they would only ever kiss in front of their friends. It was fun to derail one of Ingrid's lectures by making her stutter and huff and then forget where she was up to, or to distract Dimitri from getting too caught up in whatever was going on in the back of his mind that he would never talk to them about.

Somehow, recently, it's changed. They kiss in private just as often as they do with an audience, not just to get a reaction out of their friends or classmates, but simply because it's fun. 

And then there's the realisation that's still reverberating through Sylvain's bones like the strike of midnight bringing the curtains down on an enjoyable spell: he no longer just wants this as a fun and casual thing. He wants more.

It's closer to one o'clock when Sylvain finally wanders to his room, still trying to process the ground coming out from underneath him in such a subtle but insidious way. His heart has no right to make demands like this and he thinks two simultaneous thoughts as he lets himself into his room: that he doesn't deserve this, and that he deserves exactly this and nothing better. 

Sylvain must be the butt of some cosmic joke, to have something so fun and casual and _easy_ only for that to not feel like enough. 

He drags himself out of bed early the next morning, just to go down to the training yard and watch Felix run through sword forms. 

"You shouldn't have bothered coming if you're not here to train," Felix tells him, when Sylvain yawns for the third time.

"S'my fault you were up late last night," Sylvain replies, propping himself up with his lance. "Figured it was fair to share the sleep deprivation." 

"I was up late last night because I wanted to be," Felix mutters, knocking Sylvain's lance aside with his foot and sending him stumbling. "C'mon. Make yourself useful. Spar with me."

"You know I hate being useful," Sylvain replies, even though he picks his lance back up and settles into a stance opposite Felix. "And I'm terrible at it." 

Felix simply hums instead of bothering with a proper rebuttal. "Let's go."

It's far too early in the morning for anyone to be as sharp or agile as Felix is. Sylvain only manages to hold his ground through instinct that's been drilled into him for longer than he's known to read or write. It's still not enough and Felix has him pinned embarrassingly quickly, straddling his chest with his training sword pointed at Sylvain's throat. 

"Hot," Sylvain croaks, because it's apparently too early for his brain-to-mouth filter to kick in. 

Felix huffs a soft laugh and leans down to kiss him, quick as a lightning strike and just as devastating. "Come on. Again."

"Again?" Sylvain blinks up at him, not ready to get up onto his feet just yet because it feels like the earth has just tilted on its axis. "The kissing?"

"The sparring," Felix corrects with a huff. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "…Maybe that too."

By the time they're done in the training yard, they're both panting and covered in sweat. It's later in the morning now and there are more people around in the training yard, running through drills on their own or sparring with each other. 

Sylvain pushes his hair back out of his face and sighs. "You're brutal."

Felix smiles, like Sylvain has just given him the highest of praise. They put their training weapons away, and Felix clears his throat. "Kiss me."

It's the first time either of them have explicitly asked. This is monumental, Sylvain thinks. Years from now, he'll look back at this moment and think of it as a turning point in what he hopes to be a long history of kissing Felix. 

What comes out of his mouth is, "Kiss me yourself." 

Felix rolls his eyes and grabs Sylvain by the lapels. 

"I'm serious, you know," Sylvain says, while he still has space to talk. Maybe they shouldn't be doing this right next to a weapons rack but Sylvain hasn't had enough sleep to consider those kinds of things. "About kissing you. About, uh. You." 

Felix _laughs_ at him and all the thoughts that have been swirling in Sylvain's head, all the chimes of midnight and lightning strikes, melt into nothing when he hears three words.

"Yeah." Felix kisses him firmly. "Me too."


End file.
